Page 58 of Lime Tree Hill
Tayla stepped into his bedroom and shut the door.My Cousin Rachelsat on the nightstand, along with her box of tissues and alarm clock. In the closet, her clothes hung on the right-hand side with his hanging opposite. She hesitated before peeking into the drawers. The few bras, panties, sweaters, and leggings she’d left behind sat neatly in place. Beautiful lingerie had always been her weakness, and for some reason, the thought of Mitch touching her smalls prompted an amused smile.
Late-afternoon sun washed the room with a soft glow. Tayla opened the sliding door onto the balcony. And as the scent of freshly cut grass drifted up from below, she drew the net curtains, slipped out of her dress, and lay on Mitch’s bed in her slip and underwear. Resting her head on the pillow, she told herself it was just for a minute.
A mix of his bodywash and cologne lingered—the faint scent of familiarity—and as Tayla covered herself with the throw, she recalled their wedding day. The anticipation while waiting on the rocks, his smile when he caught sight of her, and how she’d beenthe focus of his attention for several hours. Those sublime make-believe moments where fact blended with fiction.
Was that what she was doing? Living a fictitious dream? Because, even though she feigned disinterest, the way he’d looked at her as he stood in the doorway, filled her thoughts as she drifted off.
“Tayla?”
She woke with a start, struggling to focus on Mitch who stood at the foot of the bed.
“Dinner’s almost ready. I thought I’d better wake you.”
“Thanks.” She pulled the throw around her shoulders, aware of his gaze flicking to the blush pink satin covering her breasts. “I was out cold.”
Mitch’s warm smile caught her off guard. “CeCe’s just finishing the salad.” With that, he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
She’d almost forgotten how incredibly handsome he was. How his looks unnerved her. The image of billboard Mitch flashed into her mind—half-naked, tight boxers, strong arms and shoulders. How would it feel to be held in those arms? Desired until all rational thought vanished?
Telling herself to get a grip, Tayla used his en suite to freshen up before slipping into her dress. As she entered the kitchen, the curtain rose once again. Fantasies with her husband in the lead role would have to wait.
It was showtime.
“Hi, you,” CeCe leaned in for a hug. “I hope you like veggie lasagna.”
“Love it. It’s good to see you again.” She glanced at the table, set with a basket of rolls, a large green salad, and various condiments. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Sit and tell me about your dad.” CeCe held up a bottle of wine. “Vino?”
“Please. And Dad’s doing much better, thanks for asking. He’s been pretty down in the dumps, but that’s to be expected after what he’s been through. It turned out one of his stents had failed. Bent almost in half.” Tayla peered into the office. “Where’s Mitch?”
“Downstairs, feeding Edward. He said you’ve been away for three weeks. That must have been tough.”
“It was cathartic, to tell the truth. I haven’t spent a lot of time with my parents over the past few years. We reconnected—shared lots of laughs and a few tears. And Ruby and Noah, my sister and her husband, have two little girls. They’re two and four, so I loved being with them.”
“Cute. I love kids.”
“Me too.”
They sat at the table, the aroma of tomatoes, basil, and garlic stirring her hunger.
“I’ve really missed Mum and Dad since they’ve been traveling,” CeCe said. “Not that I’d tell them that. They worry enough about me as it is.”
“Who’s worrying about whom?” Mitch strolled into the kitchen. He walked straight up to Tayla and pecked her on the lips. Twice.
“Excuse me,” CeCe said with a smile as Tayla struggled to compose herself. “Tayla and I are trying to have a private conversation.”
He looked at Tayla and grinned. “Are you just?”
“Yes, and it’s girl talk,” Tayla said, her mood playful to match his sister’s as her lips tingled from his touch.
“Right, this lasagna’s done resting.” CeCe handed Mitch a large knife. “Mitch, you do the honors.”
As she watched Mitch serve a huge slice of lasagna onto her plate, Tayla struggled to understand the change in him. He’d barelysaid a word to her before she went to Auckland. Now he was attentive and charming. The perfect husband.
And while they ate, he looked at her as if he were a man in love with his wife, playing his part in front of CeCe with care. Because she wasn’t privy to their secret. Or if she was, she didn’t let on.
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